


Rio Down.

by NothingSnow



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen, Graphic Description, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 15:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18153944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingSnow/pseuds/NothingSnow
Summary: The Crisis in Rio was a massacre. Ninety-five percent of human life was wiped out in the city. Through guerrilla warfare, the people who remained rose up and took their own city back-- population booming once again once it was safe. The population rose to 2.5 million, growing each year-- large families spreading out and reclaiming the destroyed buildings as their homes once again.But then, Vishkar moved in. Skyscrapers were raised from the rubble and they began to move into the ramshackle Favela neighborhoods, built on the sweat of the desperate. After these Vishkar neighborhoods were erected, they imposed a violent Martial Law over the city and it’s people. A civil war broke out between the people and their new occupants-- One Lucio Correia dos Santos spearheading the fight against his own father and the corporation he stood with. Riots in the streets, civil unrest, tear gas and rampant hospitalizations from police brutality have been documented, yet hidden away from the public of the rather isolated city. Valuing their customs, their music, their art, and their own freedoms above all else, the people still living in Rio are stubborn, proud, and brave.And then Talon swept the rug out from under Vishkar.





	1. The City Center.

**Author's Note:**

> This entire work is a compilation of several people in an RP. As such, the POV will shift.

[[ Rio riots inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTTxR6dZZZ0 ]]

* * *

Another car set ablaze. The people's riots grew louder by the day-- what had once started with a peaceful, tear ridden, heartfelt protest at the foot of the tallest building of Rio, now was a city-wide unrest that more often than not ended in civilian bloodshed at the hands of their new militaristic, dictatorial rulers. The people set their own city on fire-- the air filled with smoke, tear gas, and the voices of the scorned. Vishkar Police were brutal, armed with their sonic blasters as a means of crowd control. These weapons often caused shattering ear drums, and as they knocked people back, more and more got injured. The people that had fought for their own survival and won against all odds were now being systematically beaten down by the very people that employed them-- gave them promise of a better life. Some of their children stolen, taken and gone to some foreign ‘school’ with no contact home. Others left in the dirty streets worse off than they had started.

Lucio was no exception. His mother had succumbed to sickness, his brothers were missing due to Vishkar ‘intervention,’ and his father had signed on blindly to Vishkar in the hopes of a better life. The lowly street performer saw right through it, and though he was just a boy with a megaphone, he inspired dozens, and eventually more, to join the fight to protect all they knew.

Guerrilla style fighting, knowing the streets like the back of their hands, they brought the fight to Vishkar. Wrestling crowd control weapons from the guards, along with any sort of communications devices, it was a small victory in an ongoing story of loss. Field hospitals and back-alley clinics were at capacity, and many people were dying with wounds inflicted by the police themselves.  
“You sure about this?” Paulo sighed, pulling the headset off his head. It had been held together by duct tape, and he had to hold the earpieces to his ears to keep it in place to listen to the Vishkar communications. “There’s gonna be a lot of _filhos da puta_ in that place. What if you find your dad?”

Lucio double checked the ties on his boots, securing the laces with duct tape to ensure that they were going to stay that way. Not to mention his boots were partly being held together by tape, he was hopeful. Optimistic. A green bandana covering his face, along with the other boys in the room. A symbol of the green of the wilderness surrounding the city, a symbol of new life, of the hope that the people themselves were capable of. The hope that they were fighting for. “Yeah. I’m sure. No problem, dude. We totally got this.” He paused, patting Paulo on the shoulder as his childhood friend nodded in understanding. He turned, addressing the group with a proud voice. “I know that place like the back of my hand. We’re going in with the USB’s-- we’re going to steal as much as possible. Destroy their fucking computers, and then get out. No casualties, no fighting unless pressed. Got it?” He held up the sonic blaster that he’d wrestled from the Vishkar operative, and the half-dozen others held up theirs, as well. A round of ‘yeahs’ resounded through the room.

With a loud, boisterous chant, the group of teenagers psyched themselves up, and moved out-- easily blending into the furious crowds of the streets and making their way to the city center...

* * *

 

The conference room was cold despite the blazing heat outside and the gauzy fabric of the tunic doing next to nothing to keep her warm. It didn’t help that she didn’t have her biotic pack either. It was a diplomatic mission after all. Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to be considering this a mission, it was just a conference for the Ministers of Oasis. The other Ministers had come along, every single one of them in the stuffy, outlandish uniforms they decided on (Moira swears on her life she doesn’t remember the vote). But the technology was imperative, the work of one of their own. The sensors that came down nearly in front of her eyes alerted her coworkers to her eye movements, a way for secret signals to be passed. This was one of the functions she turned off for this meeting in particular. She knew what was coming but the others didn’t and she didn’t want to give anything away. Not yet but all would come in due time.

Her hands were gently folded in front of her, looking at the Vishkar agents as they filed in and her fellow Ministers did the same. The all got settled and silently watched each other for a moment. Vishkar knew what was coming next. Anya and her colleagues, save for Moira, didn’t know at all. Moira’s eyes kept glancing towards the door like she was anticipating something to happen, something big. Sanjay was the first to speak up, a soft smile to the geneticist. “Now, Dr. O’Deorain, you don’t want to spoil the surprise, do you?” Moira shot a glare back at the man as Dr. Al-Shahrani and Moira’s other colleagues looked at her.

“What does he mean, O’Deorain?” Anya demanded for a moment before the door opened again before Moira could answer. But the answer was clear enough by who came into the room.  
  
A sleek black limousine pulled up in front of the city center. There were protesters and rioters, all seeming to be against whatever was going down at the city center. He could see Oasis’ cars pulling away, a way to prevent them from being overturned. A triumphant smile painted Akande’s face as his hand smoothed over one of the lapels of the crisp red black-patterned suit he wore. Had to make a good impression after all. Not like Akande wasn’t known for good impression but he was sure this would be an especially good one. The car stopped and the door slid open, moving upwards like a DeLorean instead of opening forward. After all, that’s all that could conform to the man’s hulking height. The sun caught on the golden metal of the gauntlet on his arm, something the man didn’t normally wear to a diplomatic mission like this.

But now? He was making a _statement._

Akande walked into the building like the building was his own. After all, he knew the building would be his, sooner rather than later. He was pointed to the room without question. No question of whether he was part of Vishkar or Oasis, they just pointed him to the room. He liked that. That was something he missed being in prison, the feeling of commanding a room was like a rush that he had gone without for eight whole years. There was a pause from him as he stood in front of the large glistening door. His non-gauntlet hand pressed to the door, feeling the wonderful hardlight creation under his hand. What a shame it would be to have to destroy this… a part of him, the rational part that he prided himself on reminded him that it might not end in that. They could comply. But he knew human nature, he knew it too well. They would resist, fight him even. It was going to be a shame. With a simple push, the door opened to the seemingly surprised Oasis agents and the seemingly cool and collected Vishkar agents.  
  
“I felt our presence was needed. After all, what kind of friendship is it to keep one ally from another?” Akande said smoothly, not moving from his spot in front of the door.

Sanjay stood up in response to the door opening, like he was preparing to greet a guest. “Mr. Ogundimu, we didn’t expect to see you here so soon.” He quickly said but moved away from his own seat as if he were offering it to Akande. But the Talon representative shook his head.

“No, that won’t be needed, Sanjay. I actually feel we won’t be _needing_ Vishkar anymore.” Akande dropped the bomb on the Vishkar group. “But Talon would rather looking into forging an alliance with _Oasis_.” He turned himself to face the scientists and doctors that filled Oasis’ panel. “We feel Rio would be better suited as a city of Talon’s and, by proxy Oasis’. I know it’s sudden,” He spared a glance back to Vishkar, where Sanjay sat with a slack-jaw.

“ _You can’t take Rio from us_!” The Vishkar leader suddenly snapped, a fist clutching the hardlight chair in front of him. Sanjay knew better though than to challenge the Doomfist. He instead decided to verbally stand up for his company. This seemed to only pull an amused laugh from the Talon leader. But he didn’t turn back to face Sanjay just yet, a power move to make sure his priorities were known. This didn’t please Sanjay, who was motioning for his own men to get into position. After all, who would come to something like this with the largest terrorist organization in the world and not be ready for things to go sour?  
  
Akande didn’t step down from his spiel with the Ministers of Oasis. “But don’t worry, Dr. Al-Shahrani. Your, and Oasis’, personal transition to being our allies will be rather easy. After all, my darling wife has been among your ranks for a while now.” Akande motioned towards Moira and suddenly all the other Ministers’ eyes were on her. And that was the moment her seeming nervousness melted away, like this was the moment she had been preparing for the whole time. An easy, almost triumphant smile painted her lips as she stood up from her seat to take the spot next to Akande. One of the Talon henchmen that had come in with him came over to her with her biotic pack, letting her shoulder it out of their hands as she slipped the hand ports over her fingers, seemingly almost absentmindedly, making a point of showing her power in the situation.

“We already have a large number of Talon operatives working and living in Oasis. The transition will be seamless.” Moira announced simply, looking the other ministers in the eyes. But the ministers seemed to be more accepting of their position than the Vishkar agents did. They thought they were acting before Akande could act but as the hardlight vices went around Akande, he simply broke free and rushed forward, the only sound to escape him a sharp exhale as the gauntlet threw the offending student against the wall and much like his return to Talon, there was a sick crack as they slammed into the wall with such a force that it killed them on impact. Or it could have been the simple impact from the gauntlet, it was hard to tell it all happened so fast.  
  
“Sanjay, _ore mi_ [my friend], you can’t expect to win this.” Akande was closing in, like a shark that scented blood. “Talon, we see what we want, see what we need. Rio is a key piece in our plans and we knew you wouldn’t just hand it over… so a coup was the only option we had.” He opened his hands up like he was going for a hug. “Don’t you see how you tied our hands, Sanjay?” Akande’s smile was taunting, like a predator playing and toying with its prey before going in for the kill. Moira wasn’t far behind him, her smile knowing and expectant like she had called this was going to happen. With a single step, she disappeared only to reappear on the other side of Sanjay. It was good that they brought her pack because the dark, corrupted nanites buzzed in her hand as if she could simply end him with the flick of her fingers.

“Don’t worry,” Moira piped in, “we, Talon and Oasis, will take good care of Rio. Some might say it will be actually flourishing and not this faux development that you created.” She pursed her lips for a second and gave a little nod of her chin. Sanjay was gone, that was her vote. Akande’s expression change was subtle, going from taunting to almost arrogant and excited. Again, he rushed forward, the weight of the gauntlet propelling him. But instead of letting his fist connect, he opened his hand and grabbed a hold of the leader’s head, driving him into the ground. There was another sickening splat as a mix of blood, white matter, grey matter, and skull fragments splattering across the floor. “A shame.” Moira said simply as she took a step away from the mess.  
  
“Indeed.” Akande answered similarly as he stood from his kneeling position, looking down at his suit as if to make sure it survived the attack. Of course, he couldn’t address Oasis again if he were a mess. “Now that you see how Talon takes care of dissenting opinions, what do you say? Will Oasis be siding with the victorious and aiding us in our efforts here in Rio?” He asked, turning to face them again, letting the gauntlet sink under the table.

“It seems as if we don’t exactly have a choice at this point.” Dr. Al-Shahrani responded with a sniff, looking between the two Talon leaders in front of her and her comrades. “To be fair, we would have joined sooner. We just needed the invitation.”

Akande’s triumphant smile came back. “That’s the correct answer. That is the answer we want to hear.” With that, Akande finally took a seat at the table, next to where Sanjay had been standing. “Now, we will be _unstoppable.”_

* * *

 


	2. The Favela

The low flying hopper drifted down just low enough for the lone passenger to drop down to the ramshackle favela below, seperate cloaking techs hid both the hopper and the figure. The chopper was soon gone as fast as it came, disappearing into the horizon for the return trip; it was a simple drop-off mission, a small piece in the larger picture. The passenger was going to hitch a ride back with the rest anyway, everything had already been planned accordingly.

The figure landed with a small tumble, shock-absorbers in her body suit absorbing and distributing the shock of the brisk drop. She caught herself on the edge of a tin roof, hissing a few curses in Spanish as she dropped down further to solid ground in the shade of the makeshift scrap homes of the favela.

Sombra’s mission was simple and straightforward. Akande had taken a strong interest in Vishkar’s conquests, the rapidly spreading corporation not only broke several humanitarian laws in secret but no one had been able to slow their cutthroat progress. The hacker had dug up the dirt; a myriad of eliminating public officials or silencing opposition through other means. Akande meant to put a stop to it, or at least stop Vishkar from getting a solid foothold in South America as a whole.  
The latina’s personal stake, though a very small one, was more a personal grudge from her past than anything else. She set it aside for this, however, as her little mission had come down to eliminating or capturing the various leadership and intelligence officers of the favela rebellion. Without back-up or even Reaper to do the capturing or killing for her, Sombra resigned to getting her hands dirty.

Climbing back up onto the ramshackle rooftops, her nano-weave bodysuit adjusted to accomodate for the sunbaked roofs as she dashed and jumped from one building to another. Tippa-tappa-tippa-tappa!

The only signs of her arrival were the bloody scenes that her controlled bursts had unleashed upon tiny, unsuspecting rooms and the resulting screams or return gunfire. In the backdrop of the riots, her strikes were far from the main event and it was going to be after the fact that Vishkar identification was going to be found at most of the bloody scenes. Her list grew shorter with a sickening pleasure that reassured Sombra that she’d be on the ride back in an air conditioned cabin in no time.

* * *

And so their little band of merry boys men was off. They moved rather seamlessly through the rioting, smoke-and-fire filled city, before one of the boys stopped Lu in his tracks. A hand clasped at his shoulder, the bandana pulled up over all their faces, and a finger pointed at a smear of blood in a window.

“Raul, Túlio, check it out. We need our listening posts more now than ever. Then meet up with us at the city center.” Lu barked out-- the two youngest of the group giving their two-fingered salutes before the team split up. Raul and Túlio were both only sixteen-- but fast, skilled in street hockey and even more adept with baseball bats when it came down to it. “ _Careful, guys._ ” Lucio further spoke into their little secured channel-- utilizing the stolen vishkar headsets they all wore. Painted over, they were only identifiable by the surefire hardlight mouthpieces that hovered in front of their faces.

The two boys scaled the stairs back into the favela, following the trail of blood and conspicuous screams to hopefully, a source, while the others continued to their real mission. The city center.

* * *

 

Sombra dispatched the next little nest of rebel operatives, her only regret was that it was messier than the last one. There was that inkling of a suspicion that they had caught on to her but, no, that was impossible; It was because she had found herself on the outskirts of the fighting, they all had their guards up and were ready to pack up and leave at a moment’s notice.

Once she got around to snooping, picking through the pockets of the bodies, she quickly found the laptop and a Vishkar headset. Once she got her hands on it, she saw it was rewired, somewhat haphazardly, and she could not only listen to Vishkar channels but also listen in to the favela rebels.

“Boss! You’re gonna love this,” she chimed over the comms. “They’ve got access to Vishkar comms, stole some of their fancy little headsets - you know, the goofy little visors?”

Sombra snickered as she accessed the device with a few taps of her fingers and a flick of her wrist onto her holographic hand-held interface. “I’m looping them into one of our secure channels, Boss. We’ll be able to hear them, they won’t be able to hear us. I’ll make sure Mission Control gets these transmissions.”  
The hacker slid into a foldable chair and opened up the laptop, with another flick of her wrist she opened up an expanded holographic interface that she could work with using both hands. Even then, she bypassed the laptop’s firewalls and security software in minutes. And it took less than that to upload the hard drive’s contents to her own personal cloud, wiping the laptop clean until it was little more than a fancy paperweight.

“Raul! It came from in here!”

“Yo, isn’t that our listening post? Watch out, dude. Maybe Vishkar’s snooping around.”

Sombra tensed up as she heard the intruders step inside the small building, a silent hand motion was all she needed to activate her cloak. The kinetic dampeners softened her footsteps to near silence as she stood up slowly and-

Scrrrrrrrch.

The chair whined as it slid across the floor.

“Túlio! In here!”  
Just as the door slammed open, Sombra leaped into action. She was invisible, sure, but the nagging fight-or-flight reflex kicked in. She grabbed the laptop as she jumped onto the desk and tossed the bricked device at the first person that she could see. They stumbled back as Sombra leaped forward and punched the first man, she assumed that he was Raul in the throat and forcing him to collapse down to catch his breath. Sombra’s cloaking effect flickered with the impact, it wasn’t perfect. Túlio swung his bat down, overhead, and Sombra caught it with her arm as the kinetic dampeners in her bodysuit absorbed the majority of the shock, scattering it across her body and even bouncing it back into the bat. The impact sent a shockwave through her cloak, rendering her partially visible as the shielding in her bodysuit absorbed the impact.

**_Dong!_ **

The metallic bat almost hummed like a chime, cutting off as Sombra yanked it out of Túlio’s hand and took a swing. THONK! The kid took the hit across the jaw, blood splattering as he stumbled backwards and barely managed to catch himself against a small table. The hacker took a second swing down on Raul’s head as he was starting to come back up again.

**_THONK! THUNK!_ **

Two fast, hard swings knocked him down for good. Sombra exhaled, heart racing and the cloaking effect of her suit started to solidify once again. Maybe the kid was gonna get back up again, maybe not; at the very least he was going to get a concussion.  
“It’s nothing personal, boys,” Sombra huffed between breaths. She reached to unholster her SMG but stopped, hesitated. Something gave her pause. No, these two young _kids_ , teenagers really and probably barely adults themselves, were just like…

She dropped the bat. “ _Nothing personal_. Just make sure to knock next time before you barge in on a lady taking care of her business.”

  
Túlio was just getting up on his feet as Sombra’s cloak kicked in and she dashed through the door. Raul was concussed, if he ever was going to wake back up again, but not dead. Sombra balled her hands up into fists as she jumped and climbed back up onto the tin rooftops.

“All wrapped up here, boss. Took out their listening posts, already looped their comms into that secure channel. They’re _deaf and blind._ ”

* * *

 

 


	3. The Loss.

The boys arrived at their target. It didn’t take long to infiltrate-- the Vishkar guards were mostly busy watching the riots in the streets. They hadn’t seen the foreign invaders climb up a trash chute of all things. And so they infiltrated-- climbing within the tall city center walls, and arriving in a rather empty hall as they climbed from their confines. Lucio’s head popped up and out first, ensuring the coast was clear before helping the rest of them up.

“Three floors up. Let’s go.”

With a round of silent nods of understanding, they darted up and out, silently following the walls and up a few flights of stairs. The building was eerily quiet-- almost like they weren’t paying attention. The room they needed was in plain, unguarded view, and so the boys set to work-- plugging hard drives into computer systems, copying every file they could get their hands on. Research data, emails, passwords, lists of names, and various other files.

“ _Lucio._ ” A man’s voice piped up, and the DJ nearly stopped in his tracks as he shoved several handheld hardlight projectors and various bits of handheld equipment into his duffel bag from a workstation. The other boys halted in their thievery, one of them even pulling a weapon from his belt and aiming the repurposed sonic blaster toward Lucio's father.

  
He looked up, seeing his father stand there, coffee in hand, uniform pressed and clean. “Don’t stop me, _papa_. I’m doing this for _Elísio_. And _Lorenzo._ And the people out there that deserve to know what the _fuck_ is going on!”

“Your brothers are in _school,_ son. How many times must I tell you that _nothing_ is going on!” His father hissed, approaching his oldest son with a seething rage in his eye-- but stopped as Lucio’s comrade fired a warning shot into the floor in front of his feet. The sound wave felt like a burst of air, that shook the very air that the man breathed. It gave him pause, catching his breath. He knew full well what those blasters were capable of-- he had helped  _design_ them.

“ _Get out of here._ If you don’t want to lose me like you did mom and the twins, you’ll stay quiet.” He tilted his head toward the door, before standing to his full height.

The Vishkar engineer weighed his options, but didn’t move a muscle for a long, long moment. The coffee in his hand shook, his fingers betraying the pit of fear in the man’s gut. He knew his eldest son would get killed, this way. It was foolish, rebellious and dangerous. "You will get yourself and your friends killed, boy. Vishkar  _helps_ people--!"  
  
“Do you really love this company more than you do Rio? More than _Me?_ ” Lucio’s voice raised, and he slapped at his chest and pulled the bandana from his face, before pointing to the door the man had likely come in. “Go! I You gave up on caring about anything but _this_ when Mom died!" He gestured to the room around them, before pointing to his father again, jabbing an accusative finger in his chest and then toward the door. "You _sold_ your own children! Get the  _fuck_ out of here, _papa!_ ” He made his point with a final shove, the coffee falling from the man's hand, and the cup shattering on the floor; the noise almost deafening in the silence that followed. 

The man said nothing in response, his face contorting into one of pain and heartbreak. His mouth curled into a scowl, and he looked down, with a nod. And without saying a word, he left the room. The room was silent, following, and Lucio’s heart shattered into a thousand bitter little pieces.

“Lucio! I just got locked out!” one of the boys finally piped up after a long while. “They know we’re here!”

“Oh, _shit._ ”

* * *

 

 ** _Boss! You’re gonna *love* this,_** Sombra’s voice came over the Talon communicators. ** _They’ve got access to Vishkar comms, stole some of their fancy little headsets - you know, the goofy little visors?_** His smile didn’t melt. So they had interlopers, now did they? This was going to be fun. “Get me more information, _Ojiji_ ,” But there was a pause in Akande’s request, “actually, Sombra, I think I know right where they are.” His smile was almost haunting, like he knew how it was going to end.

“Intruders?” Moira had gotten the same message, a finger pressed to her ear in almost shock. “They said the building would be nearly empty at this point-” Akande was quick to cut her off.

“They aren’t with Vishkar, ẹyẹ mi, you heard Sombra. They’re someone else.” His tone was sharp, like he was ready to go now. AKande stood from his seat and started to make his way out of the room but he paused for a moment before leaving to say something to the Oasis crowd. “We won’t be speaking more tonight. But we will be arranging meetings and calls later. You are free to go.” He said simply as he pressed open the doors again with Moira following behind him out of near sheer curiosity to see who would break into a Vishkar building at that time. If Akande’s hunch was right, they would only be at the floor below.

And he was right.

As the two Talon leaders stepped down the final steps, both of them could hear the voices coming from the technology room. Akande wasn’t one for stealth, even as Moira grabbed his shoulder as if to remind him that these people could be armed in ways they didn’t expect. But Akande found himself going straight to the doorway, nearly filling it to add to the moment. They were boys, barely armed. “Boys, boys, do you really think you should be taking what isn’t rightfully yours?” His voice was deep, threatening as he addressed the young men in front of him as he started to walk into the room.   
  
Moira stuck behind him, ready to react to the first gunfire she could hear. Because she knew Akande could take a couple of hits but she wasn’t willing to test the extent of which her work could protect someone. “Boys?” She couldn’t fight the sheer curiosity that bubbled up in her. A hand poised to throw a negative nanite orb, she moved from behind him, still staying a few steps back. When she saw the ragtag group in front of them, a surprised laugh escaped her. “Children? Rio sends its children to break into the mega-corporation?” Her tone was full of jest but something about their stances showed the two older adults weren’t as playful as her tone would give away.

* * *

 

A loud, near-deafening bout of static in their earpieces made them throw their communicators from their heads to the floor. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize they’d been deafened-- their listening post had been found-- and destroyed. _What of Raul and Túlio?_   He spun to one of the other boys, the one who had yelled about the lockout. He had the fastest stride-- he was capable of covering the most ground in a full sprint.

“Fuck!! Braz, go and--”

The door flung open before the boys could have thought up an escape plan. How had they been found out so quickly!? Lucio knew the building inside and out-- and the rest knew enough to get to the front door; or dive back through the trash chute they’d scaled. Suddenly there were very dangerous looking people looking down quite literally upon them. These weren’t Vishkar. The musician didn’t recognize them from the Vishkar files that they’d already scanned and copied. These were… Different.

“ _RUN!!!_ ” Lucio ordered, and the boys pulled their USBs from their computer systems, file transfers complete. Lucio tossed his backpack to Braz, the three of them taking off to a door near the other end of the room. “I’ll cover you!” Their mission had taken a turn for the worse, and by _God_ Lucio was not going to allow them to fail. He raised his sonic blaster from his hip as he began to retreat with them, taking the back of their little line of ants.

“Stay away!”

* * *

 

Shocked glee melted from Moira’s expression as the little leader gave the order to run and the little revolutionaries did just that. Before she could even give Akande a little shove he was already in a full dash towards the group. He was out for blood, wanting to cut them off before they hit the door. The gauntlet reared back and started to charge up. If he could get the first one… but his fist sank into the third one in line. Just like before, the sheer impact was enough to kill but that just wasn’t enough for Akande, making sure the boy’s body slammed into a number of computers and into a window, breaking the glass with the sheer force only to send the body out the window. This put Akande where the third boy had been and successfully cut off the little leader from the rest of the group.

“No!! _**Elísio!! "**_   Lucio wailed, watching his friend get struck as though it had been by a  _bus,_ his body sailing out the glass with a shatter that left the room rushing with wind and the stench of the city ablaze outside.

The boy that Akande had struck hadn’t seen it coming. _None of them had._ It happened too fast-- one moment, the boys stood near the computers and booked into a run for their lives. The next, one of them let out just a single noise-- akin to the air leaving his lungs, and it was _over._ The glass had shattered, and with a spray of blood akin to an impact on _concrete,_ the boy’s crumbled body went tumbling to the streets below. He fell back, stopped in his tracks by the sudden appearance of the behemoth of a man, and falling onto his rump, sliding forward on the tiled floor until he came to rest at the feet of the Doomfist himself. His blaster clattered to the floor and away, in the chaos. 

While Moira didn’t have the speed Akande did, she knew she had range. She faded forward a decent amount of feet, a decent distance ahead of Akande and Lucio, and quickly threw one of her orbs in a last ditch effort to catch the one with the backpack. But her range wasn’t perfect. The running group mostly avoided the orb. Well, one of them did. The other was latched onto, making the deadly mistake of pausing in the chase from the doctor’s technology. He clutched at his chest, like he suddenly couldn’t breathe and the color was quickly draining from his face. Soon his eyes glazed over as his organ functions seemed to quickly shut down as if they were starved of every form of nutrient they needed. The orb started to run out before the job was seemingly done, but it had been long enough for Moira to have approached the young man now, the ray from her hand finding him and sucking the last of his life from him. As he completely collapsed, she faded back to Akande to help with the situation at hand. The choked cries of Giovane found Lucio's ears, and barely after he had made it through the door, he too, fell.

“The one with the backpack got away.” She said as she fade-stepped to sandwich Lucio between the two of them. If one got away, Moira knew the leader couldn’t escape. Not now.  
  
“So be it.” Akande didn’t seem please but he seemed happy with who they got. “We got the important one.” His attention turned from her to Lucio in front of him. “Tell me why I should just kill you where you stand instead of making an example of you to the city.” Akande offered simply. There was no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He didn’t plan on letting the little leader get away.

* * *

It didn’t quite register for Lucio, yet-- but when it did, he let out a horrified scream. “No!! **_Elísio!! Giovane!!!_** ”

Braz got away. He had the information.

No bloodshed, he’d promised. No one hurt. It was clear he was just a civilian-- his knees that poked through his ripped jeans scuffed and scarred from the rough climb up. They were all willing to die for their cause-- and if it meant he, too-- so be it. But he wouldn’t go out without a fucking fight. The watch on his wrist had been recording audio the entire time. He would give a speech for the history books.

He found his voice after Akande boomed down to where he scrambled away on the floor, before freezing at the presence of Moira behind him. “Rio is done being controlled. Vishkar can’t walk over us-- can’t take our kids, our parents and our neighbors-- anymore!” A pause, looking bravely up to the man above him. “I’m not afraid of you. Rio won’t be afraid of you.” A blatant lie-- he was _terrified_ , but his charisma was enough that it didn’t show on his face.

* * *

 

“The younger they are, truly the more _foolish_ they are.” Moira said with a little huff as Lucio stumbled back to her feet as a way to get away from Akande. But she didn’t move, instead she stayed in her place, ready to grab Lucio if he tried to make a break for it.

“Foolish _indeed._ ” Akande commented as he closed the space between he and Lucio. “Do you not understand? Rio won’t be afraid of me. They’ll _thank me_. Being free from the tyranny of Vishkar? Opportunities for jobs and education beyond your closed in imagination? That’s what you wanted for your city, _no?_ I was able to fix all of your problems without lifting a finger. And you have to do all this in hopes of getting the upper hand, pathetic.” He quickly bent over and picked Lucio up by the scruff of the neck with his non-gauntlet hand. With that he started to make his way out of the room, carrying Lucio like it was nothing. But whatever idea Akande had seemed to only belong to him.

“Where are you going?!” Moira asked suddenly, following after the two of them, still diligently following Akande in whatever he was doing as he calmly started to carry Lucio up the stairs. For a moment, he was silent but then a laugh escaped him.   
  
“He never gave an answer. Hence, we’re going to give him an execution fit for the king he pretends to be.” Akande answered simply as he continued to climb the stairs. The trio climbed the steps to the top of the building in near silence, the only sound that could be heard was the sounds of Lucio’s struggle against Akande’s hand. A menacing smile appeared on Akande’s face. “Let’s see how far this little frog can bounce.” His voice was a dangerous growl as his free hand pressed up on the hinge door that lead to the roof, holding it open for Moira as she stepped through the hole in the roof. After she was up on the roof, Akande let the hatch drop with a thud. They could hear the people protesting in the streets. And Akande seemed to be approaching the edge where the protesters were.

“I’ll clue you in on something.” Akande said softly as they approached the edge of the tall building. “I have control of Rio and it is going to flourish under my hand. Not because I care about you but because it will play a key role in the changing of the world, in the next step we need to take for human evolution. We grow through conflict and this city is the shining example of this.” He explained before raising his voice. “This is your little DJ, Rio!” He announced at the rioting crowd. “He is an example of what we won’t allow, like the old regime did. We will care for you and we expect submission in exchange!” He dangled Lucio of the edge of the building.

His voice dropped down, only so the three of them could hear. “This is my city now.” He growled, ready to drop Lucio. “Any last words?” Akande decided to give him at least that courtesy.

* * *

 

Lucio’s hands gripped at the man’s fist as he was lifted from the floor as effortlessly as a tennis ball. He kicked, and thrashed, his eyes wide as fear continued to fill his mind. By the time he had been carried up to the roof, and dangled over the edge, he was desperate. His fingertips turned pale along with his knuckles from the effort, until he was shown to the rioting city below. Only a few people took the time to raise their attention and look-- Akande’s booming voice enough to halt the Vishkar forces still attempting to beat the city back.

There were a few desperate cries, unintelligible murmurs, but Akande and his speech had their attention. And after but a few seconds, the square below them fell into an almost silence in comparison to the droning of the fighting that the city had been reduced to in a span of months.

As Lucio looked to them, his frantic struggle all but ceased. His body was still, but rigid-- eyes darting back up to Akande in front of him. Any pleading would have been useless. These weren’t Vishkar. These were something different. They were overthrowing Vishkar. They had beaten Vishkar. How; he didn’t know. He thought of his friends who had perished at the hands of the nameless two in front of him, and who would kill him, too. Lucio’s little group of freedom fighters had all been willing to die for their cause. Now, they would. At least Braz got away. That information and tech would get them the justice they so needed.

He thought of his little brothers-- who he would never see again. His father, who he had scorned out of hatred and anger, and regretted it, now. He had tons of regrets, but not being able to apologize to his father was the largest of them.  
  
Nevertheless, he seemed to accept his fate. He would become a martyr-- the people would not succumb to another regime so damn easily. All that remained of the DJ was his wit. He gave a rather cheeky grin, teeth white and shining in the smoke-filled air.

“Y-Yeah. I got a couple last words.” A dramatic pause, the little DJ swallowing his pain and his heartbreak at losing his friends-- looking to Moira, and back at Akande. _“...You like Jazz?”_

* * *

Silence filled the square and Akande could feel his chest practically swelling with the power. They were watching him and what he was going to do. He knew what he was going to do and he was about to drop the damned little frog until the boy piped up with his alleged last words. The DJ asked a simple question, making Akande _scoff_ and loosening his grip on Lucio. “Goodbye and _good riddance._ ” He hissed as Lucio slipped from his fingers over the edge of the building. As the DJ left his hand, Moira stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulder as they watched the chaos break out below them. “Look at them, they don’t even know what’s going to happen, how their lives are going to change.” Akande murmured with a shake of his head.

 


	4. The Call.

He knew it was coming. He had expected maybe a _laugh_ , but instead got an indignant scoff before he was dropped without mercy. In that instant, the world felt so large, and Rio, as he twisted to look to the ground he descended towards, looked so odd. Rio had been a beautiful city, once, at least to him. Where the favela was widespread, and no one had much, they all smiled. They were proud. People once danced in the streets, there were festivals and carnivals and games and laughter. They made the best of what little they had. They were proud, and good. Now, there was only fire, tears, and hatred. Where his fear melted away to acceptance and regret, he wondered if the riots and the bloodshed so far had even been _worth it._ **_This is the stupidest thing I could have done. Everything could have changed_** , he thought to himself-- the world moving in a slow motion as the adrenaline in his brain reached a peak-- like an absolute euphoria. **_My friends are dead because of me. My neighbors died. So many people are suffering because we didn’t submit. Because we fought. Stubbornly._** He brought the hand with the watch close to his chest. His last rebellion-- his last attempt at getting  _justice._ He had fought with such hatred that perhaps he had forgotten the true war he had intended to fight-- the return of their stolen neighbors and children. His baby brothers-- the twins. 

His head raced, and his body twisted in a frantic fashion once again to face away from the ground, instead-- to watch the sky as the afternoon sun looked so bright-- so _warm_. Cumulus clouds warned of rain in the near future-- and despite him knowing that the sky was blue, it was stained orange from the fire and the smoke, instead. The color of war. If he could save the watch with the recording of his last mission, perhaps his little brothers could be found. Returned; along with the dozens of others that had gone missing, as well. Perhaps they could get justice. 

He didn’t hear anything else. Only the silence of his mind. He hadn’t even realized _he’d been screaming._

* * *

 

“Hey! Lu! Raul! _Elísio!_ _Someone talk to me!_ Come on!” Paúlo’s voice rang into the comm before the lines went dark; the boy hearing nothing but fighting and then _static_. He had nothing-- their little monitoring operation destroyed with some _unknown force_. “Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck fuck fuck._ ” He slammed the computer shut, unplugging all he could carry and shove into a bag, and then he was gone.

It took only a few minutes to disappear into a different building in the favela, setting back up and breaking into Lucio’s social media accounts-- until the headline of Overwatch’s return caught his eye. He found a public knowledge site, found an email of the archived Winston, who had apparently initiated the recall. It took only a few minutes, the connection to the internet spotty, at best. But he had the info he needed. 

A single recording, is all he could give. Webcam powered up, the boy with the bandage over his nose and a black eye took the ‘stage.’ He barely knew english, but tried his best, his voice shaking as he looked directly into the camera.

“I don’t have a lot of time. My... name is Paúlo Jardim Lopes de Arruda. I am from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. My friends and I are part of the last of the resistance against Vishkar, here. At least… A thousand people have died. Kids are being stolen. Neighbors going missing. We do not have clean water, or electricity in places. You may have heard of Lucio Correia dos Santos. The musician. He is my best friend and… He’s in trouble. We looked up to you when Rio was rebuilding. _You all gave us hope_ \-- but now I have to beg for help. Please send someone-- _anyone_ to these coordinates-- its an old army base near the sea, south of the city. For the sake of everyone still alive here… _help us._ ”

With that, the video ended-- and with a quick lace of geographic coordinates and various bits of collected footage of the riots and police brutality to prove his case, he sent it off, finally rising from his computer and packing it up again, leaving the building for good-- disappearing into the fire to run toward the city center.  

* * *

 

Where the people on the ground stood in relative stunned silence, chaos erupted at the sight of Lucio’s fall. Some rushed forward, others remained frozen in place. Paúlo had arrived in the square, shouting into his old, beat-up walkie-talkie, hoping that anyone could have heard him to meet at the old army base. His chest-cam was on, a last-ditch effort to record the happenings of the city before their rebellion’s collapse.

He saw Lucio as he was dropped-- watching his best friend flail in what could only be terror before twisting around at the last moment. It was here that he continued to run forward-- perhaps in an effort to catch the little DJ, but to no avail. It was a tree at the base of the building that he came crashing down upon-- the branches making his body flop and twist before he finally stopped on the ground. He landed hard on his side, his body broken and twisted and mangled.

He… he hadn’t even _bounced_. And he didn’t move, either.  
  
“Lu!” He screamed, his voice cracking from the smoke and the pure terror he felt. He dropped to his knees, looking at Lucio’s blank stare forward and up to the sky, the blood trickling out across the stone underneath him and his mouth open in a now-silenced scream. He touched at Lucio’s face, frantic and gentle, as if he were now made of paper where only a day prior, they’d been socking each other in the arms. His fingers ran past his pulse-- still warm and… _alive._

“Stay Away!” He demanded over his shoulder at the Vishkar operatives that approached with concern-- one of them already on a radio to try and call a doctor. A Vishkar doctor would only lock them up. And he knew that Lucio would rather die. 

He wasted no time, filled with adrenaline and terror, as carefully as he could lifting the DJ’s body onto his shoulders. The DJ's legs were broken, his chest deformed as though he’d shattered several ribs, and his right arm looked misshapen. A crack in his skull leaked blood about him, but while the now-heartbroken crowd swarmed the Vishkar guards, shouting things about their guilt in the situation, Paúlo made his escape.


	5. The Rescue.

The old base had sat unused even now, ever since the end of the crisis. By the time Paúlo arrived, he was exhausted. Raul and Túlio were alone, on the helipad, Raul’s body was limp, but he was breathing, albeit shallowly.

They were all that was left of their rebellion. Just a couple of _kids_.

Túlio was crying, his jaw hanging at an odd angle, and blood pouring from his mouth. His entire face looked swollen, and he certainly had seen better days. Raul, on the other hand, had a black half-of his face, stained purple and red. An obvious concussion as he lay unconscious.

“Haúwwo.” Túlio couldn’t move his jaw, and whined at even trying, coming to lay down on the concrete of the old helipad.

“D-don’t talk. We lost. I called someone, amigo. All we can do now is wait.” He was their impromptu leader, for now. He set Lu down as carefully as he could, Túlio’s one good eye looking to his friend and crying even more-- his chest racking with sobs. He wasn’t a doctor. He couldn’t do anything but wait.

“Hey!” Braz’s voice on the horizon was there, a heavy door pushing open as he too jogged over to the helipad inside the old outlook base.

“Braz! You made it!” Paúlo exclaimed, a sigh of relief coming over him as he came to finally sit down. “You fucking lived. Where are Elí and Gio?” He huffed, desperate for answers. “What about everyone else? The listening posts?”

Braz took off his glasses as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “Elí and Gio... They... Whoever it was that grabbed Lu, got them. He kept them busy so I could get out. I--Oh, my god, _Lu_.” He came to rest on the ground next to his mangled body. “What--”

“You don’t want to know, Braz.”

If Overwatch didn’t show, then they would all die there.

The afternoon felt like it simply wore on, and Braz, Paúlo and Túlio could only wait. Lucio had made several vocalizations-- he was clearly suffering, but alive. They’d given him water, unable to do much more. They were all wanted criminals-- any reputable doctor would rather turn them all in, now-- at least they were all convinced of that. “Do you think we should… pack? I can run back, and...” Braz spoke first after a long silence-- Lucio having fallen unconscious once again.

“Nah. That stuff’s expendable.” Paúlo responded with a shake of his head, having managed to stop the bleeding from Lucio’s skull, at least. He hoped it was good. The boys were all scared, and by the time that airship appeared on the horizon, they were all exhausted.

Paúlo stood as the airship approached, that Overwatch insignia emblazoned proudly on its exterior. Braz and Túlio watched in wonder-- the boys that were still conscious jumping about and hollering frantically to get the airship’s attention on one of the helipads. The old base had long gone dark, utilized mostly by the homeless vagabonds as shelter now and again. Smoke still hung heavy in the air-- and it was clear that Rio still rioted, it still felt the rage that Lucio himself had help sew into the very bloodstream of the people within. Though, south of the city, where they were, it was quiet, almost silently so, a jarring juxtaposition from the chaos the boys had escaped from.

Help had arrived; but Rio was no longer a free city-- and it likely never would be, again. 


End file.
